


This is the Beat of my Heart

by QuirkyFirst



Category: X-Men (First Class)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuirkyFirst/pseuds/QuirkyFirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't try and sleep through the end of the world<br/>This is the beat of my heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the Beat of my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to title this "The Fear of Falling Apart", but the ending tied in with the new title so much better, and so I had to change it XD

This is gospel  
for the fallen ones  
Locked away in permanent slumber  
Assembling their philosophies  
from pieces of broken memories  
This is the beat of my heart  
…  
If you love me, let me go  
…  
These words are knives that often leave scars  
The fear of falling apart

 

When the tears finally came, he couldn't make them stop.

He was always very good about controlling his emotions; keeping them contained, neat, and organized so as not to cause a mess. However still, no matter how hard he tried, they always seemed to let themselves out all at once without any warning to the mind in which they occupied. Needless to say, Charles was never pleased when they did. 

That particular night, nothing extraordinary had happened to cause him to burst the way he had. He began snapping at Casey in a way she didn't deserve for no foreseeable reason. But still, when you keep everything locked up inside of your for so long, it's going to find its way out eventually, whether you like it or not. 

He didn't even remember what was said that made him go off like that. Maybe it was nothing at all. It seemed to him that ever since Raven left, things had simply spiraled endlessly downward. Not only had she left, but so had his only confidant and his ability to walk. But that was years ago, of course, and they'd since come home, and as he told others, he’d grown accustomed to his wheelchair. There was the little issue that it was all a lie, but he liked to believe it. The only times it shown through and his true feelings about the matter made themselves known were when he convinced himself to take doses of the serum. Hank had since perfected it and it no longer hindered his powers, but the addiction was only recently overcome, so to Charles, it was still a drug. That's why he would only take it when he needed it. Needed not to feel inferior. Needed to feel normal. Needed some relief. He hadn't noticed he was doing it until he walked to his father’s house three months ago. He had taken the serum so he wouldn't look vulnerable… but wasn't his succumbing to that doubt the textbook definition of what he was trying to avoid? He didn't know why it was such a big problem for him; to meet new people and have them see his disability. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might be because he didn't want to be looked down on. He had spent years building up the courage to loudly declare “mutant and proud”, and still he was wrestling with the one thing that phrase stood against, and the one thing he had always called Raven out on; self doubt. 

Still, he couldn't address the growing issue. Raven and Hank had it worse than him. Who would they turn to for help if they learned that their friend and mentor had the same issue they did? It was best to push it to the side. They needed him to be dependable, after all. 

And of course, there was the little matter of Erik Lehnsherr. It was unbelievable to think that the broken man he had tried so desperately to fix for so many years was now better off in life than he was. Maybe he had tried too hard. But it was good, and Charles was glad. Seeing his dearest friend growing as a person and becoming the man he was meant to be filled him with joy… but it also tore him apart. Erik continued, healing, while Charles only grew consistently worse. 

Now, he sat in his bedroom, back against the furthest wall, knees drawn up to his chest. He had been like that for a while now, and he was beginning to again lose feeling in his legs. Still, he kept very still and rocked but little. He looked very small, sitting there alone against the bare wall. Every curtain in the room was drawn as to keep the light out, and no lamp was lit that night. The professor had never truly looked his age- in fact, one could hardly tell any time had passed at all since the year he began the school- but even more so now did the persona of the broken man seem much younger than he truly was, as he resembled a child, lonely and afraid, confused as to why they were crying. 

The sparkling blue eyes usually so full of light were unseeable, as he shut them tight and refused to let them open. The darkness was more comforting than the empty room. His head bowed, and rested on the top of his knees, as his shoulders shook quietly. He liked the dark, but still it meant that he was alone. It was,supposedly, the only thing that hadn't been a lie yet.

Why did he feel so alone, with so many people surrounding him? Raven was home, and was teaching the students every day and loving every bit of it. Hank was coming out of his shell, and meeting new people; finding friends he could identify with. Casey was growing up into a wise, lovely, kind hearted young woman that Charles had always known she would become. Echo was practically unrecognizable, smiling more than Pietro and Wanda when they finished one of their annual pranks on poor Logan. And Erik… even he was there. He had become, seamlessly overnight, the father his kids so desperately needed. There was barely a trace of the haunted, vengeful man who believed his only purpose in life was to enact revenge. Barley even a trace…

Charles voice caught the sob in his throat, as he suddenly stopped shaking. Silence commenced, and he stared, eyes closed, at the blackness around him. A painful panging began in his chest, traveling up to his head. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair, biting down his lip until the pain subsided.

They didn’t need him anymore.

The realization spun thoughts of chaos around his head, jumbled up, screaming, laughing that it had taken him so long to figure out. They didn't need him. They didn't need him. All his life, he had been needed. Needed to play, needed to smile, needed to hug, needed to help, needed to teach, needed to mentor, needed to guide… and now what was he needed for? Those who needed him all his life were now all well-and-good on their own. They no longer had to depend on anyone; they were all self sufficient and independent. Shouldn’t he be glad? Shouldn’t this excite him? They had grown the way he wanted them to… the way he showed them. But it was too much… too much… Charles reached for the fibers in the carpet, needing something to ground him to reality so that he wouldn't fall into the black void he had suddenly found himself in. Against his will, he began to sob. He sobbed hard. His breath clenched up, and all he could hear was his cries in the dark silence. If they didn’t need him, what was he there for? All his life, all his life, his job was to guide these people. To help them and to show them the path they were meant to be on. He’d done that… and now what? Nothing. Who needed him now? No one. A small cry escaped his throat. His entire purpose; gone in an instance. He needed someone, now.

And in that same instant, Charles felt a hand on his shoulder. The shock paralyzed him, and he stopped moving. The hand rubbed his back, and held him close. He waited, quiet, and slowly the paranoia and fear faded and were replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace and tranquility. The hand intertwined itself with his own, and the owner leaned their head against his shoulder. A soft, familiar voice spoke quietly into his ear, and his tense form relaxed. and His chest rose and fell slowly, and he was finally able to breath again. As time went on, he wouldn’t be able to even remember what exactly the voice had said to him; only that it was the voice of his darling Casey.

And that he was still crying, but it was good.

 

...  
Don't try and sleep through the end of the world  
This is the beat of my heart


End file.
